


dreaming of the dead

by kittycat (idolcomplex)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Family, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Not Shippy, Self-Sacrifice, Siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:13:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23765164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idolcomplex/pseuds/kittycat
Summary: a deeper, dave-centric look at one of my favourite conversations in all of canon.
Relationships: Rose Lalonde & Dave Strider
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	dreaming of the dead

Dave's voice is quiet when he finally responds. It's out-of-character for him, but he can't muster much better. Not if he's picking up what she's putting down right.  
"Ok then do it." Is all he says, taking a step towards her, standing by the window in his tower and sparing a glance out into the sky every now and then.  
"But you have to promise to stay put." Rose responds. He's sure she knows, deep down, that he won't, but she's trying. He can respect that. "Don't try to stop me. Just...." She pauses. "...let it go."  
He thinks she meant to say 'let me go' but that's a stupid thing to expect of him and she knows it. They always acted like they barely tolerated eachother, sure, but that was irony. It was comedic. She's got to know he wouldn't give her up for the world, right? She has to know, because he can't tell her.  
"But this was my mission." He says instead, trying to sell the illusion of a teenage boy wanting to play hero. It's easier to keep pretending she doesn't mean the world to him. She sighs, shaking her head.  
"It really makes no sense for you to go. This was never your preoccupation."  
"That doesn't make sense," he argues, half-lying and half-genuinely-confused, "why would they drag me into it just to have me make a map and then let you ditch me?"  
There's bitterness in the way he words that sentence, and bitterness in how he says it, but he's okay with that. They deserve the bitterness. "They've obviously been gunning for me too."  
She leaves his window-side, pacing around the room as his gaze follows her. She's messing with her hair, he notices. She's nervous. Rose Lalonde....nervous. It's a strange experience for him. She always tried-- and succeeded-- to seem unbreakable. And yet, here they are, standing in his room on his tower, and she's nervous. He's not as observant as her, but he knows that much.  
"Yes," she says, finally, "they helped you chart a path through the Ring. And they will open that path for a pilot they have marked."  
She turns to him and stares him down. He always feels like shes seeing through his shades, even though theyre mirrored. Maybe their eyes are just similar enough that when she sees her own, she sees his too.  
"I believe I fit that description. I'm not sure about you."  
"Why do you think that?"  
"I'm the pilot." She says, matter-of-factly. "That's all there is to say on the matter."  
Her tone is firm. She's telling him not to fight her on this without telling him not to fight her on this. But she knows as well as he does that won't stop him. She's telling him, once again, to let her go. He can't let her go.  
He's never been as good with words as she is, but after a few moment's hesitation, he tries to make his next line hit as hard as hers have in the past.  
"But I don't want you to die." Is all he says. And it works, because her firm gaze wavers and she seems to shrink before him. She didn't expect this. Why didn't she expect this? Doesn't she know that? She has to know that.  
She shakes her head and turns away from him, her steely tone returning. But he knows he did something, rattled her for a moment. He hopes it felt like it always does when she drops bombshells like that. He hopes it carries the message he wanted to say....that he loves her.  
"Help John and Jade." She says, and there's no arguing with her when she says it. But Dave's not one to follow the rules, and he knows Rose won't enforce them.  
"This isn't right."  
"Then I'm not going to help you wake you up. I'll stall some more."  
"So you admit you were stalling with all that bullshit." He retorts, though there's hardly any venom behind his words. She shakes her head, and he knows by the way she's looking at him that she's about to say something just as earthshaking as what he said-- maybe more. Knowing her, probably more.  
"I said not entirely."  
Not the bombshell he was expecting, but then again, when is Rose ever what you expect her to be?  
"What do you mean?" He asks, prodding further to get at what she's trying to say, because even if he knows how much it will affect him, he can't help but think that maybe he needs it. From her especially.  
She hesitates for a moment, then smiles at him in a way that makes his hearbeat jump into his throat, because he can see so much in her smile. He sees pride, he sees respect, and he sees love. He doesn't know how he sees that all, because he doesn't know how to recognize them, but somehow he knows that's what she carries.  
"It's going to be a long ride through all this nothingness." She explains, "Maybe I just thought....some company would be nice. Before it's all over."  
She pauses and gives him a chance to recuperate. Or maybe she's giving herself a chance to recuperate. Probably both. It's funny, he thinks, how such a simple thing just brought him to his metaphorical knees. And how such a simple thing on his end did the same to her. This must be what family is, he thinks. Small things like this that make that dark, cold place in your heart light up with a campfire and get a little bit warmer.  
For a moment he might even be able to forget she is about to sacrifice herself for the rest of them. And maybe that's what she wanted. To tide him over to keep him from running after her. But then, she slipped in that last line, maybe unconciously. To remind him, maybe unconciously. It's a cry for....not help. Companionship. She's not telling him that she needs him to save her, no, she's stronger than that. She's telling him that she's lived in the company of her blood, and she would be happy to die if she could die in the company of her family.  
She seems to notice how long he's been silent, because she breaks his reverie, her voice quiet, surprisingly gentle, and almost small.  
"So what'll it be?"  
"What?"  
"I'll wake you," She offers, holding out one hand, "But only if you promise to rejoin the others." She holds out the other hand, weighing the catch against the benefit. Then she puts both hands down, clasping them together in front of her.  
"Could you give a message to John for me?"  
He nods, but he's not really planning on talking to John for a little while.  
"Sure, but....." He trails off, his hands absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of his shirt. She looks at him expectantly, waiting for the rest of his sentence.  
"If I'm promising not to chase you down there's really not any hurry to wake up."  
She smiles again, then, but more playfully this time, and leans against the wall.  
"Aw, are you sure?" She chuckles, apparently amused by whatever she's about to say. "I was looking forward to bowling another wicked googly with the yarn. Sportsways." She shrugs, giving him a "you know" sort of look, and he snorts just a little bit. Their mutual immense knowledge of sports will never not be funny. Unless it's combatted by a sports fan, then the sports fan gets annoying. But when it's just them two? Oh boy, you could have hours of fun.  
"Nah," he says, letting out a small sigh and sticking his hands in pockets he wasn't quite sure he had, "I'll stay asleep a while."  
She looks away from him and out the window and smiles, nodding once. She looks peaceful, and when he looks at her standing there by the window, he thinks he'll be glad to die at her side.  
"Ok."

**Author's Note:**

> i cut it off before the real end of the conversation because it sort of interrupts the flow of the fic sorry not sorry


End file.
